A canvas had been put up above the hurricane deck and seats arranged under it, in order to afford passengers an opportunity to view the grand scenery without being exposed to the rays of the sun; and this spot had been selected as the field of action. The queen of Scots and her party were seated in a circle, near the stern of the boat, wholly unconscious of the hostile preparations which were being made by the queen of Sheba and her adherents. Ingomar was entertaining the queen and the ladies of her court with an eloquent description of the burning of the steam-boat “Bulletin,” and the heart-rending scenes that were witnessed on that occasion. The queen of Sheba with her party was located about twenty feet from the spot occupied by the queen of Scots. “Now,” said George III., making a low bow to the queen of Sheba, “what is your Majesty’s pleasure? What is to be the fun to-day?” “Social conversation and enjoying the beautiful scenery will occupy us till luncheon, and when we have had enough of that, we will then form our plans for the future.” “By the by,” said Wellington with a loud voice, evidently intended to attract the attention of the Scottish queen’s party, “have you heard the strange news?” “No, no; what is it?” “There are two detectives aboard in mask, on the look-out for the perpetrator of a diabolical murder that was committed near Collierville day before yesterday. They have tracked the man to this boat, and have satisfied themselves that he is aboard, and are prepared to arrest him. They have got a man spotted, and are going to take him off at Vicksburg.” “That’s the best shot that ever was fired,” whispered Napoleon. “See,” said the queen, “the shot has taken effect. They are all looking this way, and intently listening. They are dying to hear more. Give them another shot.” “What were the circumstances of the murder?” inquired Napoleon, as he raised his voice and winked at Wellington. “Oh, it was a most horrible and cruel murder--it was a love affair. The deceased was a young and pretty girl; she had loved not wisely, but too well. Poison was the means used to produce death.” “There, there, Wellington,” whispered Napoleon; “let ’em rest on that a while. They have all been gradually moving this way. They can’t hold out much longer.” “Let me throw one more shell into their camp,” whispered Wellington. “All right; go ahead.” “There is a skillful pickpocket aboard of this boat, and those who have money had better be on their guard. One passenger has been relieved of a purse containing five hundred dollars. The pocket was cut clean off, and so skillfully done that the owner knew nothing about it until his attention was called to it by a friend. I fear that our amusements will all be interfered with, and that we shall be compelled to lay aside our disguises, because, whoever he is, you may be assured he is in mask.”